


some demigod's tale of exculpating and devotion

by nugatories



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, F/F, M/M, Trans Character, also LOTS of headcanon, essentially the closest thing i'll get to a sequel, shiki & eri aren't the main focus but they're still here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 04:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nugatories/pseuds/nugatories
Summary: "Some folks just don't take 'no' for an answer."





	some demigod's tale of exculpating and devotion

**Author's Note:**

> this is posted pretty prematurely since i have NO idea whatsoever where i want this to go; not to mention the other fics i gotta finish up before i set my focus elsewhere, so take this for now while i can still claim my title as the author of the 666th ao3 twewy fanfic

But I missed him. I _miss_ him.

I wished not to throw a temper tantrum. And I resorted to other methods of letting out my frustration. The upper plane had yet to really care about me. My city. So why did it matter so much what I did?

It had been a few months since everything went down. I still could not get his pathetic face out of my mind. I knew I went soft in the end. And Hanekoma acted all posh about it, like he and the angels were taking bets on my teenage angst and breakdowns. After all, a demigod has to be stoic. Apathetic. A demigod has to destroy himself like a tragic hero and curdle the remains of hisself in a mass of blood, ruin, and death.

It had occurred to me far too late that Minamimoto was supported by Hanekoma in his efforts to kill me. I still have no clue as to his motive, but as long as he refuses to speak of said aid, I will not bring the topic up in our dining together. I assume he knows I figured as much out by now, and maybe the moment I bring it up, he will eliminate me right there. For Shibuya's sake. Though I do have hopes otherwise—even if Minamimoto just wanted my place—I think some part of Hanekoma was only opposed to my original formula. My fetal proposition seemed to have some other notion to him, or maybe he saw the possibility in its entirety, but either way, I cannot bring myself to have faith that a man I could almost see as my father supporting someone who would use the Composer's powers recklessly. A zetta bad idea, if you ask me.

Everyone is so envious of the ones in power, but I would rather die than be where I am right now. If only that meant I could save Shibuya too.

Maybe everyone is not the same as me. A world with the same ideals seems like a utopia, but I guess that would just be the same as a massacre altogether, right? The soul of a person makes them up, so brainwashing would just be creating a new person entirely. I have learned otherwise.

Though the past few months have been quiet, more people have been surviving the Reaper's Game and getting a second chance. After further thought, I started to believe that the game itself was a fruitless ideal, and perhaps it would be best to get rid of it entirely, but even Hanekoma, upon hearing that, declined the offer. A second chance at life was a good opportunity most would not pass up, and should another feud, like the one between myself and the Conductor, arise, it could be used as a MacGyver to fix the issue. I can see that appeal, knowing that there is really nothing else for a person to lose if they get erased. Yet, I have been working to make some of the rules more lenient. My word is only final in Shibuya. Any other Composers of other cities, running their own game, must follow the same rules. Though there are only few places on Earth with these games and these systems, the higher plane is not an empty one, and my speech may go unnoticed if it is only Hanekoma and I who are aware of such.

Nonetheless, I have been aching to speak with _him_ once more, even if it just happens to be one more time. We used to speak so often, too. Both him and I, young kids, unharmed, unwatched, unnoticed.

I was under an entirely new persona then. A jocund kid, grade school age. Never was good at making friends. This was, of course, because of this blessed ability to see the UG. Whether God above did me this deed, or a simple error in the turns of fate, I do see that power as a blessing. Even if it landed me alone and in therapy, at such a vulnerable age, too, I think it truly was a stepping stone to getting me to my finest stage—right now (even if I am alone again).

Upon meeting Neku, I told myself over and over I would not speak of the UG. I would be myself under any other circumstances, but that alone I would not bring up. Even now, I believe we would not be close if I decided to tell him that I saw dead people, literally, so I happen to not have regrets when it comes to that. In the end, we ended up very close. My friendship and affection for him, and his in return, proved my parents wrong, and I was taken out of therapy. However, that did not stop other aspects of my life, like the abuse I suffered from them and kids who formerly I tried to become friends with that had knowledge of my UG sense. School had become tougher as well, and the more stressful things got, the uglier I felt. Mentally and physically, of course, because no kid ends his life from being just fucked up on the outside.

I never loved Neku romantically. We were very young, anyway, so feelings at that age were just compulsive ones wrought down from family matters. I could not imagine falling in love with the one person who actually cared for me anyway, because if we broke up, what then? I would end up alone again, and how hard would it be to come across another person willing to speak to a shamed boy with powers tossed aside?

I worked so hard to climb up this social hierarchy and obtain one friend. I would refuse to allow that sort of achievement go down in my past without my consent.

Alas, the moment came where I got my grubby soon-to-be middle schooler hands on the wheel of the car my biological father was driving and steered it straight into a line of other speeding cars—and then a wall.

Hanekoma knew of this. In fact, he was he final one to drive me over the edge, but I let him. I let him psychologically manipulate me and gaslight me into finally triggering the last step.

_Shibuya needs a new Composer._

_This Composer isn't worth it._

_This Composer is greedy and evil. He should be replaced._

_The powers of the Composer rival some of the Gods._

With the thoughts of those who had wronged me in mind; these violent intrusions I allowed to violate my judgement, I triumphantly slammed my cup of coffee onto the Wildkat bar, and without paying, skipped home. You cannot arrest a dead boy for theft once he happens to be deceased.

That was when I played through the Reaper's Game. I actually had no partner the whole week. I went into hiding, of course, and let the other pairs do the dirty work. And when the week came to a close, I got myself branded as a Reaper. Well, for the time being. All was going to according to plan, so there was nothing to worry about.

Being the avant-garde Reaper, I had a surplus of spare time. Unfortunately, people in the RG could still see me, wings or no wings, so this made my job of checking up on Neku's state very tedious. But when I found myself comfortable launching off building to the next, traveling through Shibuya had never been quicker for me.

Neku was difficult to observe. He stopped leaving his room except to attend school, which I did not dare to go near. His parents seemed very hands-off on his situation, which made me concerned, but no—I could not speak to him. To Neku, I was dead. But seeing him weep day after day made me feel guilty for my actions, but I quickly got over that. I had to accept the fact I was abruptly leaving this boy to live out his own life, one of which I automatically assumed was filled with other friends, but in my ignorant state, perhaps I was incorrect.

I vowed to check up on him time to time, but Neku would soon become a latter memory; one I would dwell upon whenever my thoughts became scattered or I dissociated.

Being dead did not have its perks. In fact, getting the former Composer to notice my hard work as a Reaper was a meticulous and stodgy affair. But he did, and that was when I was offered a position as an angel, due to Hanekoma's recommendation directly to the Composer, I assumed. This was the moment I killed the old Composer, and took his place. I rearranged the staff, and this rush that took place within my veins after ending the life of someone associated in the wrongdoings of any person like me was indescribable. It was so wrong of me to practically feed off this adrenaline, but I did nonetheless. This newfound puissance made me feel like no other—and Hanekoma knew how I felt more than anyone.

Sure, my "life" began turning grey. The city lost its charm, and the pedestrians were like ants in some technological anthill. I had difficulty seeing the positive aspects, but I could see them. Very little, though, as the light that droned out the negativity was fading itself.

The Conductor and I began our long-lasting feud then. We never had a full-blown discussion, though, until years later. That was when I needed a proxy. Someone to represent this dullness; this bitterness in my heart.

So I checked up on Neku.

Sure enough, the poor soul had yet to make another friend, but at this point, I assumed he was not even willing to try. I felt nothing from this, but that was most likely because I did not think deeply enough into his situation. I caused him to become like this. To hate Shibuya for taking me, even though Shibuya did anything but.

I realize now it was my fault for my death, but it was for the best. I will elaborate on this—patience.

Minamimoto became an issue, Hanekoma's aid joined in, and only to rain on my parade of what became Taboo Noise and loneliness, Neku had to show up and change for the better.

Back to the previous point. The deaths of many people indirectly caused by mine were harsh, but I never truly killed anyone flat out. Not until Neku, which I now wholeheartedly think was a bit harsh, and I suggest he should just forget it ever happened and we would be chill.

I was doing the best job I could as Composer. His anger, though, really stirred my insides in an ill fashion. It had been so long since I took anger to heart.

His second week in the UG really messed with my messed up brain. Good thing was that morally, it seems I was fixed by him. Though I believe my childhood competence led me to becoming fatefully bound to the Reaper's Game and the position of Composer, I would give it all away to be forgiven by Neku.

No, I do not plan to betray him furthermore. Sure, he trusts me, but what is trust without a burden? Not to mention his fourth week's entry fee—me. And his failure of that week, due to all his other fees being carried over, made me think. My choice did not take long, but it was anything but an obvious pick. He made me change, so it was he who deserved the second chance at life; and his entry fees would be nulled, so his buddy Shiki and the other players he grew close with would be there as well. Including that couple I tried to avoid growing fond of. Oh, but they were really cute together, admittedly.

Just as the honored Producer said, my actions would cause repercussions in the higher plane. It seems everything has gone unnoticed, though. Even Neku himself was only shocked for a few moments before recognizing his rebirth. Even though he failed. It is within my power to give him the life he deserves for changing the heart of an adamant. I gave him the chance to change Shibuya. He happens to be more deserving of this position than I. Yet the fact that he would rather risk sacrificing his own life than to kill his killer because of a bond we built on lies is the most stunning part of it all. We reach the climax of his journey, and twist after twist comes to a closure. The conclusion to a tale of a boy able to change fate is one I tend to admire, and one I wish to throw myself back into. I never felt better than when I was around him, genuinely acting as if I agreed with his standpoint and views. The moments I did not need a barrier; the times I spoke what I truly felt were the ones I envied to live through every moment of the day.

He is planning to meet with his friends at some local diner-esque restaurant. I will get him alone to speak with him. I will manage to bring myself back into my life.

I will have Neku forgive me, even if it happens to be the last thing I _ever_ do.


End file.
